


Prostate Milking

by jupiter_james



Series: Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017 [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bathtub Sex, M/M, PWP, Prostate Milking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 14:39:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11128911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiter_james/pseuds/jupiter_james
Summary: Dean and Castiel have some bathtub sex!Here is my bingo cardthat I need to fill! I'll update it with stamps as I fill them. You can find the rest of the prompts that I fill on Tumblrright here. Most of them will be cross posted here on Ao3 as well.





	Prostate Milking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ltleflrt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/gifts).



> Please forgive the lack of editing again!

"I thought this was going to be romantic," Castiel says with a deep frown.

"It is romantic!" Dean protests in his "I'm obviously saying the direct opposite of what I mean" voice.

"Dean."

"Cas."

"We can't fit into this tub together."

"Not with that attitude."

Castiel levels him with a squinting, withering look. "I'm learning the nuances of your voice patterns. And right now your tone indicates that something bad will happen."

Dean scoffs. "O ye of little faith."

If possible, Castiel's mouth pulls down further. "And now your tone indicates there's about a thirty percent chance of death."

"I can always just never fuck you again," Dean snaps.

"I was being generous."

Dean claps his hands together decisively. "Okay, you know what? Your attitude stinks, and so do you. Get naked and get in that freaking romantic-as-shit bubble bath, where I'm going to fuck your brains out and you'll stop scowling."

Castiel nearly cracks a smile. Begins to remove his soiled clothes slowly, one article at a time. Dean sighs in relief and follows along, shedding his layers and hopping into the clawfoot tub, which admittedly, he thought would be bigger from the pictures online he'd seen of the cute B&B before booking it and telling Sam not to wait up after the hunt. Frankly, he'd been happy for the heads up and no chance of walking in on them. 

Castiel scrubs off under the detached shower first while Dean tosses their clothes into one of the plastic laundry bags provided by the hotel, making sure to clear their pockets. Then he comes up behind his angel, kissing his clean shoulders from one end to the other. "You gonna be grumpy our whole vacation?"

Castiel turns his head to the side with a smirk. "All fifteen hours of it?"

"More'n we've had before," Dean murmurs, sliding his hands over every inch of Castiel's wet skin within his reach. Castiel hums in pleasured agreement, pushing back, already hard when Dean's hands make it to his dick. "Come on. I can make this good, kiddie pool tub or not."

It's good enough to get Castiel moving once they're both properly cleaned. He splashes into the tub first, slipping and bracing a hand on the edge with a startled curse. Dean gingerly climbs in after, learning from Castiel's mistake, and they're practically nose to nose even on opposite ends of the tub. It's definitely too small for two grown men. "Standing in the tub while having sex is dangerous," Castiel says.

Dean sinks down to sit, his feet crushed up against the edge, barely long enough and less than comfortable.

Rolling his eyes, Castiel eases himself down into Dean's lap, but the only way that he can fit is mostly undignified, one leg thrown over the side of the tub. At least angels don't get cold. "This is awkward," he mutters.

Dean leans forward, kissing the protest off. "I can make you forget about that."

"Do it," Castiel challenges with a glint in his eyes.

Surging up, Dean deepens the kiss, pinching Castiel's nipples, hitting all of his sensitive spots one after the other until Castiel is moaning, head lolling back against the lip of the tub, torso arching out of the water. Which allows Dean to get into the perfect position, raising his knees so Castiel is pushed up slightly more. "Grab the lube," he orders, eyes raking over every inch of the angel's tanned skin.

Castiel gropes blindly over the edge of the tub until his fingers close over the small foil packet. He lifts it up and plants in Dean's waiting hand.

Dean rips the packet open and drizzles it over one finger. 

Castiel gives him a pointed smirk. "You think that'll be enough?"

"This time," Dean answers with a wolfish grin. Then he sets himself to blowing Castiel's freaking mind. They haven't had much time since they'd gotten together to really sit back and draw out sex. Even now that Sam knows what's going on and therefore respects closed doors a lot more, they still err on the side of being polite.

But they've got fifteen hours to themselves now. Dean'll take as many as he can get. He swirls his slick finger over Castiel's perineum, back to his hole, massaging gently and with only a small amount of pressure. Castiel's dick twitches and falls heavy against his belly. Castiel's hands slap to the lip of the tub, grabbing, slipping, and then finding purchase. 

"Hang on tight," Dean smirks, then his finger slips inside Castiel's heat just to the first knuckle. Castiel sighs and Dean waits for him to relax more before slipping in further. Times like these the tables are turned and Dean's the one to stare without blinking. He hates to miss a millisecond of Castiel's pleasure, because the guy looks _so good_ this way. He throws himself completely into it, always seeking the sensations without a shred of self-consciousness. 

Castiel presses his hips towards Dean's fingers, bearing down, rolling in a tiny circle, greedily trying to position Dean's touch exactly where he wants it. Dean lets him with a grin. The pad of his finger brushes against the tight bundle of nerves. Castiel jerks with a moan. Dean presses more firmly.

" _Dean!_ "

"Not this time, Cas," Dean purrs. "We got all night and then some. I'm not letting you get off so easy this time."

Castiel shudders again as Dean zeroes in on his prostate, rubbing it lightly, pulsing his finger against it. The angel can't seem to catch his breath properly, chest heaving. In a breathless whisper, he pleads, "I don't know what that means... I need... _oh, holy-_!"

He can barely hold himself up against the onslaught. He and Dean have this so many ways so many times. But it's almost too much this time. Every touch, press, massage, jolts through his body, up his spine. He feels like he's going to come in a second but also not for an hour. He's never known if he could without his dick being touched either. It's never... he's never... "Dean, please." His voice is broken and he's begging to come. To know that this sort of pleasure is actually survivable. He's not convinced that it is. Even for an angel. _Especially_ for an angel.

Dean's single-minded focus suggest that he has the same curiosity. "I wanna do this forever," he murmurs, enthralled. "You're..." 

Castiel likes the unfinished thought. It's boundless with every completion of it beautiful. He wants them all. Thankful that Dean's letting them have them.

For now, though, all he can focus on is the intense shocks of near-orgasm coursing through him heavier and heavier. His muscles are taut with his desperation.

Suddenly, his back arches up and he cries out, complete ecstasy washing over him as he dry orgasms. "Dean!" he sobs.

He takes pity. Dean's mouth closes over the head of his cock while Castiel quakes through his first orgasm. He relaxes his mouth and throat, taking Castiel's length in deeper and deeper until there's no further he can go. Dean resists the urge to swallow when Castiel's cock brushes the back of this throat, muscles quivering in such a way that Castiel almost blacks out. It's so good. Dean is so good to him. He knows how to do everything. Take care of him. Worship him. Worship _with_ him. He'll never be able to be without this. 

The second orgasm is just as powerful as the first and he comes down Dean's throat.

It's not over for a long time. Castiel can feel Dean's hands on him gently against his oversensitive skin. On his hands, carefully prying off his death grip against the lip of the tub. Back into the water. It's soothing as he collapses into Dean's lap. His eyes feel weighed when he manages to pry them open. "What _was_ that?" he croaks.

Dean kisses him soundly. "The beginning of the best night of our lives," he answers.


End file.
